The crowd murmured in respectful sympathy.
De Socotra looked for the cab that had brought him. "Come, dear, let us go home."
"What will I do with this fellow, sir?" asked the policeman. "Don't you want to lay a complaint against him?"
"Oh, I don't think so," said de Socotra, determined to play the kindly gentleman to the end. "I don't suppose he knew what he was doing." Then for the first time he appeared to recognize Greg. "Hello!" he said, "aren't you the man who drove me earlier this evening?"
There was nothing to be gained by denying it. Greg nodded.
"How did you get in on this?" asked De Socotra.
Since he was forced to play the unwelcome part, Greg played it as well as he could. "Well, after I filled up my tank," he said slyly, "I went on to the address you gave me. Something seemed to be the matter, and I thought maybe you'd want me again. You treated me liberal. Then the young lady came running out. I didn't know she had anything to do with you. She said she'd pay me anything I asked if I'd get her away from there. I thought she was in distress-like."
Greg was comforted by the sight of a gleam of approval in Amy's eyes. Whether or not de Socotra really believed this yarn he could not tell from his face.
He feigned to believe it. "Too much melodrama!" he said indulgently. "Let him go, officer."
But the policeman hated to relinquish his capture. "Why didn't you stop when I first told you?" he demanded.